Chapter 437: Slaying the Flood Dragon
Above the royal capital, the Nascent Soul battlefield.
Night Crow regained his senses from a wave of dizziness, the blurry world before his eyes gradually becoming clear again—only for him to freeze on the spot.
"W-What… happened?"
His voice trembled slightly.
"I don't know."
The answer came from Xuan Ming beside him, who had awakened a little earlier.
The eccentric golden-haired cultivator lowered his tone. "...It feels like I just blanked out for a moment, and when I came to, everything had become like this."
The cultivators around them were no different—each awakening one by one, then staring dumbfounded at the sight before them as a chill shot up from the soles of their feet to the backs of their skulls.
What they saw… was a field of corpses.
The already-dead bodies of the Netherkins had somehow withered even further—and, more terrifyingly, all the still-living Netherkin that had filled this region mere seconds ago were now all dead.
Their cause of death was identical: each had a split between the brows, life force utterly severed.
A sacrifice ritual?
As the head of the intelligence division, Night Crow immediately recalled what such eerie phenomena usually signified.
But after scanning the area, he found nothing unusual.
"Kirin, do you have any idea what's going on?"
He turned to the figure standing one step behind him, wearing a mask patterned with scales.
The masked figure silently shook their head.
Night Crow thought for a moment.
"In any case, let's first inspect the area for anything wrong… I'll inform the others of my suspicions. The fact that the Netherkins gather us all here like this means that there must be some kind of scheme involved."
Has it already been completed?
He couldn't tell—because he truly hadn't felt anything off.
. . .
"You—who are you!? Why are you here!?"
Within the crimson space, the black flood dragon roared, its voice carrying a faint trace of draconic might. A spectral image of a dragon shimmered faintly around its body, as if it could manifest its true form at any moment—perhaps only that could grant it some sense of safety.
But the figure before it paid no attention.
That white-robed silhouette seemed to have merged with heaven and earth, utterly still, without the slightest ripple of emotion.
For reasons it couldn't explain, the black flood dragon found that all it could see was that figure—its trembling soul filled entirely by that presence. Everything else faded from its sight.
"What do you want?"
"What is your purpose?"
"Could it be— you intend to stop our Netherkin race from achieving our supreme destiny!?"
Perhaps raising its voice truly helped—it gradually found its tone stabilizing. The tremor faded, replaced by a surge of boldness. Its words turned from fear to challenge.
Unconsciously, its massive body moved closer toward the first spatial rift, dismantling the no-longer-useful formation that had guarded it.
Then—
A response finally came.
The echoing sound of the guqin stopped, replaced by a cold, mocking laugh.
"Destiny?"
The white-robed figure didn't turn around. Still holding the fishing rod, he adjusted his grip slightly—as if about to pull in the line—but stopped midway, letting the fishing string continue to ripple through the void.
His voice was indifferent:
"Since when… was a doomed to fail attempt at ascension called a destiny?"
The black flood dragon froze in place, mere steps away from crossing into the azure realm.
The words had been spoken in a calm tone—yet to its ears, they struck like thunder.
"D-doomed… to fail?"
A storm rose in its mind, and it murmured in disbelief.
'He knows… what our plans are? He knows the Netherking's scheme? Then he really is here to ruin it!'
'No— impossible! If someone like this truly opposed the Netherking, how could the Netherking not know? How could he not have made preparations? Even the one who awoke in the Demon Spirit Realm permitted this plan…'
'Wait—no… didn't I always feel something was off from the very beginning?'
It suddenly remembered the unease it had buried all along.
Why was it that, just to deal with a mere early-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, their Netherkin race cultivators needed to trap the enemy in a space where she couldn't resist, draw her into the Demon Moon, and still add an extra formation, then even have a Divine Transformation realm being like itself personally suppress her?
Could it be… the Netherking had known from the very beginning that an accident might occur?
Was that why he ordered the final step of the plan to be completed immediately—because if it were delayed, that man's interference would cause it to fail?
Thump, thump, thump.
The black flood dragon's heart pounded violently, each beat echoing like a drum.
It wanted to deny what the other had said—this so-called "doomed to fail"—yet, inexplicably, a faint belief crept into its heart.
Could the Netherking truly succeed?
If ascension were really possible, then why had that past Emperor of the Immortal Nation—someone far stronger and more terrifying than the Netherking—chosen to abandon it? Why had he vanished without a trace?
No—no, stop thinking!
The black flood dragon realized its state of mind was becoming unstable. Any further wavering, and it felt it would fall into an endless abyss.
Forcing its thoughts back under control, it ignited its nether blood, letting the frenzy within push it forward as it slammed headfirst into the spatial rift, entering the blue-hued realm.
"The Netherking will ascend to become the Nether Immortal… he will, he must… when that happens, the world shall belong to the Netherkin alone…"
As though trying to hypnotize itself, its human form grew increasingly faint, while its true flood dragon form grew clearer and more defined. The crimson slit of its pupils filled with madness.
At that very moment, the white-robed figure in the pale space flicked his fishing rod.
A sound like thunder roared.
BOOM!
"Ascend to become a Nether Immortal? Hahahahaha!"
Mocking laughter reverberated through the space… and as it spread, the aura of the white-robed figure subtly shifted.
He released the fishing rod—but it remained suspended in midair, perfectly still.
Then, slowly, he rose from the void. His white robe flared, and the detached serenity he'd displayed before vanished, replaced by a presence that seemed to stand above the heavens themselves—the bearing of a sovereign who ruled all beings beneath the sky.
"How utterly laughable in your ignorance…"
"Leaving aside that such a method could at best create false immortals… heh, even if you did become true immortals—so what?"
"Immortals… I've slain them before."
The white-robed figure turned sharply.
Reflected in the black flood dragon's eyes was a blank mask—but behind that mask, those eyes shone like a god's… or a demon's!
In that instant, the flood dragon's mind exploded with illusions.
It saw millions of Netherkin reduced to ashes with a single flick of that man's finger.
It saw the entire Demon Realm crumble into dust at one sigh.
It saw the Netherking himself cut down, reverting to his roc form, plucked bare of feathers, his blood drained, thrown into a boiling cauldron—while it, powerless, was bound beside it, the next ingredient to be cooked alive.
And the white-robed figure approached, sharpening his blade.
. . .
Kirin's eyes showed exhaustion, yet faint joy as well.
The hardest part was finally done.
She didn't know when she had entered the pale space, but now she stood beside a certain "Demon Sect Holy Saint who had once slain true immortals."
Meanwhile, the black flood dragon in the blue realm seemed utterly blind to her presence—its true target—staring instead at the space beside her, trembling as if trapped in pure terror.
She cast a somewhat strange glance at the man next to her.
To be honest, his acting had far surpassed her expectations.
She'd known this Demon Sect Holy Saint could act—but she hadn't realized just how good he was.
For a moment, even she almost believed he truly was some legendary being who could kill gods and immortals alike.
As a result, the effect of her Prison Seed of Mortal Dust had turned out even better than anticipated.
On the other hand, Luo Wusheng immediately sensed Miss Kirin's gaze. Though he kept his posture and composure intact, the face beneath his mask twitched.
This was way too damn awkward!
If he'd been alone, pulling off this kind of over-the-top act wouldn't have been a problem—in fact, he might even have felt smug about scaring a Divine Transformation realm opponent silly.
But now… with her watching… it was just plain embarrassing.
But the truth was—Miss Kirin, who knew exactly what was really going on, stood right beside him.
And she, not him, was the true main force in this battle against the black flood dragon…
Luo Wusheng thought back to the lines he had just improvised, to that disdainful, over-the-top laughter of his—and wanted to die on the spot.
Still, he forced himself to suppress the overwhelming urge to roll on the floor in embarrassment.
He kept up the act, gazing down at the flood dragon across the spatial divide, and kept repeating to himself:
'It's just an ant. Everything in this world is an ant before me…'
'Ah~ a world full of ants—might as well destroy it already…'
Thankfully, it was almost over.
Once this ended, he swore he'd numb all the nerves in his face with tribulation lightning and live as a paralyzed man for a while.
At that moment, Kirin—looking utterly drained yet resolute—took a soft breath.
Luo Wusheng immediately knew:
It was time.
"By your leave… Sword of the Ancestral Emperor!"
Her voice was quiet, yet in the unseen fabric of the world, it drew a mysterious thread of connection that tightened with those words.
Within the space suffused with azure light, a jade talisman—one that neither of them had noticed before—suddenly shattered.
A brilliant radiance erupted before the black flood dragon.
From that light stepped out a phantom figure.
He wore an imperial crown and dragon-embroidered robes, holding a long sword of dark gold in one hand.
His face was blurred, yet no one could look directly at it.
Standing before the nearly fully-transformed flood dragon, he slowly raised his sword-bearing hand.
As he lifted it, countless motes of starlight appeared from the void, streaming into the dark-gold blade until the sword itself was drowned in pure gold brilliance—it became a radiant divine sword, vast and resplendent.
Behind the phantom figure, it seemed as if all living beings bowed in reverence.
At his feet, a golden dragon wreathed in star-mist faintly coiled and danced.
Even from across the spatial barrier, Luo Wusheng could feel the suffocating might of that one sword—the kind that left his throat dry and his heart pounding.
But the flood dragon, who was the target of that blade, stood there entranced—trapped in an illusion, without the slightest will to resist.
In its mind, it saw itself dying again and again in countless ways, saw that familiar figure—whom it once called the "remnant of the Ancient Heavenly Gate"—striking it down over and over.
The seed of fear had taken root, sprouted, blossomed, and borne fruit.
At the end of those visions, the black flood dragon saw a palace.
The arrangement of the palace felt familiar, filled with the very elements of the Ancient Heavenly Gate it remembered—but it had never seen a hall of such grandeur among the Heavenly ruins.
Upon the dais stood a hazy figure, looking down at it, raising a long sword in a motion that felt like divine judgment.
The flood dragon was terrified.
All thoughts of resistance vanished.
It reverted fully to its origin form and turned to flee.
But at that very instant, the blurred figure brought the sword down.
That strike transcended illusion and reality alike, as if it had descended from the ancient ages themselves.
With that sword, all beings bowed their heads.
This was the Sword of Kingship!
As its life force drained away, the black flood dragon's mind went blank. In its final fading consciousness, it glimpsed the scene outside the grand hall—
Mist of immortals swirled through the air, and only one stone stele stood clearly amidst it.
Three characters were carved upon its surface—
[Heavenly Emperor Palace].
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Tn: I updated the story daily, but if you want to see more chapter of this story ahead of time, please go to my Patreon.
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[1] https://www.patreon.com/u93297024/posts/chapter-571-to-163855664
[2] https://www.patreon.com/u93297024/posts/chapter-571-to-163855664